Revanche
by Maradon
Summary: D'Artagnan is attacked and the musketeers find themselves looking those who are responsible. Based on 2011 movie and book. Previously known as Pictures through life. NOT SLASH!
1. Foolishness

**AN: When I first saw the movie, I thought it would be a great thing to write a fanfiction about, but there was none. Yesterday when I was sick I finally found that there were other people who thought as me and I found myself bugged by this plot and I wrote it. I hope there will be other plot bunnies who won't leave me alone and I can add more short stories to this but know read and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer:I don't own The Three Musketeers, they're creation of wonderful Alexander Dumas.**

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><p>D'Artagnan cursed, why the stairs had to be so long. He didn't have strength anymore and he couldn't breathe normally, every step he took was harder. Maybe he shouldn't have sent those three away, they could have helped him. But they weren't his friends; they just were the three musketeers he patrolled with.<p>

He had been in Paris for two years; Monsieur de Treville had put him into the general guard of the Musketeers for a probationary period. Because of that d'Artagnan patrolling the streets of Paris and all his fellow musketeers, who had the same duty, knew what would happen to them if any harm fell on the young boy. There was not one of them who was so well protected as d'Artagnan

And tonight something had happened. D'Artagnan had been out in the patrol when he heard a strange noise from one of the alleys; he had gone to check and met with five of Cardinals guards. He had got two of them, when a third had sneaked behind his back pushed his sword through the boy's leg, at that moment the other musketeers arrived. The damage was already done. D'Artagnan had insisted that he was alright, that no physician was needed, no one could argue with him, the Musketeers knew that the boy was stubborn. So they helped him to the front door of his house where he sent them away.

At the moment he reached for the door of the apartment, he knew it had been a bad idea. He was all alone, there was no one. King had sent Athos, Porthos and Aramis to mission, all of them to different parts of the country. Athos had suspected it to be one of Richelieu's ploys, but it was their duty to obey the king, they couldn't argue about leaving their young charge alone. D'Artagnan himself had sent Planchet away, because he was all alone and didn't need a servant. And now there was no one to help, it was the last thought he had before his gave away.

So he laid there just a reach from the door and he found himself thinking that that was it. He was going to die alone, at the age of twenty, just few weeks before his probation was over and he would have been one of the elite musketeers.

Just before the darkness consumed him, he heard a door open.

"D'Artagnan!" very familiar voice cried, but then it was all black and he didn't know anymore.

Next thing he knew was someone's finger pushing damp hair from his eyes, he opened them, he wasn't in the hall, and somehow he had ended up in his room. He remembered someone coming that meant someone had been home.

D'Artagnan turned to the person sitting beside his bed, "Athos?" he crocked, as soon the words were out a cup of water was before him, he drank like he had spend weeks in the dessert, when the cup was empty Athos placed it on the table.

"What are you doing here?" D'Artagnan didn't understand.

"Well last I controlled I still live here." The older man raised his eyebrow.

"No, I don't mean that, what are you doing home? How long have I been sleeping?" Boy knew that it couldn't have been long, because his leg was still hurting.

"A day or so, give or take few hours," Athos leaned back to his chair and crossed his arms, "To answer your first question. I finished my mission early, reported to the king and came home. I just had taken of my hat, my cloak and the sword belt. Poured myself a cup of wine and thought to enjoy it in front of the fire, when I heard a strange noise behind the door. What do you think I found there?"

D'Artagnan clumped before he answered, "Me?"

"So now, would you tell me what the hell happened." Athos was angry, d'Artagnan knew that, but he wasn't angry at him…yet. So he told the older musketeer what had happend, leaving nothing out.

"Where are those three musketeers now?" Athos' voice had grown cold. D'Artagnan sighted there was no Aramis to soften it, or Porthos to make some silly joke.

"I sent them away." D'Artagnan said cautiously, the cocky boy had disappeared, he knew he had been stupid, and now seeing Athos disappointment in him, hurt.

"You did what!?" Athos didn't yell, "And when we are on that topic. Where is Planchet?"

"I also sent him away." D'Artagnan, wished now that he hadn't, then Athos wouldn't be this angry.

"I figured that out, but the question is why?" Athos seemed calmer.

"Well he has been complaining how he hadn't seen his sister for month, when you all were gone I figured I could let him go. I hoped when he comes back he wouldn't complain that much," Athos raised his eyebrow, d'Artagnan snorted, "Yes, that isn't possible."

"When Planchet is meant to be back?"

"Tomorrow." As he said that, Athos sighted and covered his eyes. When he lifted them, d'Artagnan saw that they were empty from all emotion; there was no worry, anger, disappointment.

"So it means that we all would have come home to find your corpses at the stairs, did you even think about that?"

"No, I didn't think, I'm sorry." D'Artagnan felt tears in his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall, he didn't want to seem weaker as he had already in front of Athos.

"It seems so, now go to sleep, you need the rest." D'Artagana closed his eyes; before he fell asleep he felt a hand running through his hair. He already knew that Athos was worried otherwise he wouldn't be this angry, now this confirmed it.

When he woke up again he heard voices.

"As I told you before, this is Cardinals ploy. He wanted us away and targeted the one he thought to be weakest of us all, but he plan backfired at him, when I came home early." Athos sounded tired; he must have been up all that time d'Artagnan slept.

"The boy was lucky; he would be dead if you hadn't been here." Aramis' voice came just next to him.

"I told him as much, there was infection and because of that a mild fever. That's why he has been sleeping for a half a day."

"He must have been a sight when you found him." There was worry in Porthos' voice.

"Yes, I thought he was dead, he scared ten years of off me and I'm already old." D'Artagnan opened his eyes slightly and saw how Athos pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You're not old Athos." D'Artagnan smiled from the bed.

"Look the sleeping beauty has wakened." Porthos started to laugh.

"You worried us boy," Aramis whispered, "it was a close miss, few inches and the sword would have gone to the main artery, you wouldn't have lasted till home."

"Forgive me." It was the only thing d'Artagnan could think of saying

"There is nothing to forgive," a small smile covered Aramis' face, "You only have to promise us to never do that again."

"He can't do it again, he will be always with us." Porthos proclaimed.

"Yes, Monsieur de Treville came by just before you woke." Athos rose from the chair under the window, "he said as soon as you are well, you will be officially part of the Musketeers and you will go everywhere we go."

"Really!" D'Artagnan would have jumped from the bed, if he had the strength.

"But first you must rest, you leg must heel. You will be limping for few months, but yes you will be officially a musketeer." Aramis pushed boy's upper body back to bed.

But d'Artagnan didn't care; he was going to be a real musketeer. The future seemed bright.

Then Porthos' face came to his view "But now d'Artagnan, do you know who exactly where your attackers?"


	2. Worry

**_AN: Here is the second story, actually I had another story in mind, but Athos didn't leave me alone and I had to write the previous chapter in Athos POV. The next chapter is already in writing, it's not in the same story line as this one and the previous. But I have a feeling that this storylines muse will return to me. I myself want to know what will happen next._**

**_And in this chapter there are quotes from the book said by Athos, Porthos and Aramis to Planchet when they send him to England. But now read, enjoy and review. _**

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><p>The apartment was empty and dark; there was only little warmth in the air, so there had been a fire in the fireplace at some point of the day. Athos was in a bad mood even before he got home, when he had reported to Louis Richelieu had been there trying to find holes and mistakes in everything Athos had done on the mission. And now returning home, he found it empty and cold. Where were Planchet and d'Artagnan, the boy should have been back already from his patrol.<p>

Athos shook his head, the boy was young, maybe had found something amusing in the town or maybe he was with Constance. He shouldn't worry d'Artagnan could look after himself.

He made fire up, put away his hat, clock and sword belt and poured himself some wine. He just had sat in front of the fire to enjoy his drink, when he heard something from the hall. Just like something or someone had fallen. Athos didn't like it, he had a bad feeling and it grew even more when he stepped closer to the door. He grabbed his sword, it was always better to be safe than sorry. When he opened the door shock rushed through his body, there laid his charge.

"D'Artagnan!" he heard someone cry, but could it have possible be he himself, the voice was scared.

The boy laid on the stairs, pale as a sheet and not moving. The first thought what Athos had was that the lad was dead. He stepped from the door and kneeled beside the body placing his hand on d'Artagnan's chest, he could feel it rise and fall. He thanked the God.

Then Athos' eyes landed d'Artagnan's leg and found the sword wound, "Oh, you foolish boy, what have you gotten yourself in to this time?" There was only one thing to do. He picked the lad up, Athos shook his head, "Boy, are you eating anything, it seems like you don't have any meat on your bones."

They reached to d'Artagnan's room; Athos placed his patient on the bed and removed the handkerchief from the wound.

"I hope you are as unconscious as you seem, because this will hurt." Saying that Athos ripped d'Artagnan's trousers where the wound was. Infection had settled in and the looks of it the fever had risen. Athos took deep breath, "Can't you ever do things the easy way?" He stood up and got some clean rags, whisky and some ointment for disinfecting wounds that was a left over from when Aramis last had a wound.

The Musketeer poured some of the whisky onto the rags and pushed them onto both sides of the wound. D'Artagnan jerked from the pain, but thankfully didn't wake. That was the moment when Athos regretted that he didn't have some of that whisky before, seeing d'Artagnan in pain, physically hurt. He speared the ointment on the wound and dressed it. "Now I warn you, if this fever hasn't gone in a day I will bring a physician. Now I have told you and when you find out, you can't take my head later."

He rolled his eyes; he was talking to an unconscious boy. Then his eyes fell on the handkerchief what he had removed from the wound, he expected to see a elegant D on the corner, but the same time he wasn't surprised that it was A embroidered with red yarn, one of Aramis', they were going around like warm bread, everyone of his three friends had at least one. The religious musketeer seemed to hope that at one point he will get them back. Athos took it, went to the first floor and threw it into the fireplace, there was nothing to do with it anymore, it was soaked in blood; even more it was d'Artagnan's blood, Athos didn't want to see it ever again.

He took bowl of clean water what he had placed there before and his wine cup and returned to d'Artagnan's room. Boy hadn't moved an inch. Athos sighed it was going to be a long night. He placed the wet cloth on d'Artagnan's forehead. He drank the wine with a one breath and refilled the cup with whisky – he needed something stronger to pass the time.

The fever finally broke at lunch time the next day, d'Artagnan slept peacefully, the worst was over. Finally, Athos found himself thinking. It had been hell of a night and strangely it had taken only one bottle of whisky.

He had just started to nod off, when d'Artagnan stirred. Athos was right back up again, yes the boy was waking. He pushed damp hair from the lad's eyes, moments later they opened, "Athos." D'Artagnan's voice was harsh, Athos gave him some water. Then it was time for explanations.

Older man felt how he grew angrier with every word the boy said, he wanted to destroy, smash, throw something. But his training kept him from it. He was angry at himself, at d'Artagnan, Planchet for leaving, Cardinal and his guards. But he kept his real anger at bay right now most important thing was his friends recovery, after that all hell could break loose.

When the boy fell to sleep again, Athos knew that he had been too harsh with him, but the boy needed to know what could have happen so he wouldn't do anything that foolish again. Athos ran his fingers through d'Artagnan's hair. The boy couldn't throw away his young life like that there was so much to see, so much to gain, a future to fulfil. A future the boy almost lost that night.

D'Artagnan was well Athos didn't need to keep up his vigil anymore. He went and made the fire up, grabbed a good book and bottle of wine, he didn't have any place to be so he returned to d'Artagnan's room and took the chair under the window.

But he couldn't get past the first sentence. He lowered the book and watched his friend. The boy who had dropped into their lives like lighting from the clear sky and turned their lives upside down actually it was the other way around, he turned their lives back to the right path. His appearance had given them back their job and peoples respect to them as the musketeers. This stubborn, impatient, cocky and naive to annoyance boy had made them live again. Otherwise they all would be still drinking and brawling and quarrelling with the cardinal's guards. Athos himself would have already drunk himself to death if d'Artagnan wouldn't have shown up. The lad had saved them all.

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><p>Few hours later apartment door opened and closed, "Athos, d'Artagnan!" Aramis' voice carried to the upper floor.<p>

"We're home!" Porthos boomed.

"Up here," Athos put the book aside.

Porthos appeared to the door way, "You look like shit, Athos."

"Thank you, that really is the first thing a man wants to hear from his friend," Athos took sip from his wine and nodded towards the bed, "at least I look a lot better than him." Porthos and Aramis who had just entered the room, looked to the bed.

"What happened?" Aramis asked who had gone to check on d'Artagnan's wound. Athos told them what had happened. He could feel anger radiating from Pothos and Aramis. When he finished his own anger was back, "I will find the man who attacked him from behind wherever he may be, for the purpose of ripping up his belly." Saying that he was so calm and cold, the other two knew that he meant it.

"And I," said Porthos, rolling his large eyes, "I will skin him alive."

"And I," said Aramis, with his soft, melodious voice, "I will roast him at a slow fire, like a savage."

"So we have a plan?" Athos smiled, "Maybe d'Artagnan will have some suggestion when he wakes." He and Porthos looked at the boy whose wound Aramis was re-dressing, "He will be alright" the religious musketeer said.

They couldn't continue their conversation when there was a knock on the door, "I will get it, I have sit here for hours, movement will do good." Athos rose and went to open the door.

"Monsieur de Treville!" He stepped from the door to let the Capitan in.

„Athos, I came to see how the young fellow is doing."

„He is sleeping and recovering." Athos offered a chair to the older man.

Monsieur de Treville declined, „I'm not staying for long, I just came to tell you that I am just coming from seeing the king and it is decided that when d'Artagnan recovers he will officially be part of the musketeers, Louis has already signed the document and his Eminent can't do anything about it."

"Really," there was huge smile on Athos' face, "he will be overjoyed."

"That I'm hoping, but now I take my leave, I have few things left to do in the city."

Athos returned to the youngest musketeer's room, "It was Monsieur de Treville, d'Artagnan's probation is over."

"Good for him." Aramis smiled.

"He is now officially one of us!" Porthos boomed, none of them had seen how the youngest of them had started stirring.

"I still don't understand how anyone could do that to him?" Aramis shook his head.

"As I told you before, this is Cardinals ploy. He wanted us away and targeted the one he thought to be weakest of us all, but he plan backfired at him, when I came home early." Athos felt once again tired, the long night was catching up.

"The boy was lucky; he would be dead if you hadn't been here." Athos could see deep worry Aramis eyes.

"I told him as much, there was infection and because of that a mild fever. That's why he has been sleeping for a half a day." He apologizes to the lad later for the harsh words.

"He must have been a sight when you found him." There was worry in Porthos' voice.

"Yes, I thought he was dead, he scared ten years of off me and I'm already old." He pinched the bridge of his nose a headache was starting to settle in.

"You're not old Athos." Athos looked at the bed, d'Artagnan was smiling at them. Yes, everything was going to be alright, everything.


	3. Audience

**A/N: I'm back, so you can see that I have decided to continue this story after all. Here is the 3th chapter. I hope that no other similarities occur, but just in case I put the disclaimer in front of the first chapter.**

**I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but something called life, I don't even know what that is, reminded me that it still exist. But here it finally is.**

**I'm thankful to lilgenious who beta-read this chapter for me. And I give my thanks to all of you who told me to continue with this story, with out your support this story wouldn't find its end.**

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><p>It was a week later, when Louis asked them to come for an audience to the castle. D'Artagnan was healing. The physician, who his friends had insisted for him to see, had let him start moving around four days ago. But this was the first time when he was out of their apartment. All the way to the castle he felt his friends' eyes closely watching him. It was annoying, he knew that they were worried, but it had become somewhat overbearing. But knowing his friends he couldn't do anything about it.<p>

They had been waiting for half an hour when the King's most trusted valet came to show them to Louis. D'Artagnan never could stop himself from marvelling at the castle even though he had been there many times, it still seemed magnificent to him and he couldn't stop thanking his luck that he could be in there. It was beautiful, his eyes had never seen anything remotely equal to it and he was sure they never will. His thoughts were stopped when they reached to the doors of the King's study.

"The Musketeers, Your Majesty." La Chesnaye_(1)_ said when he opened the doors.

Louis lifted his head from the paper he had been reading, "Good, good come in."

D'Artagnan held back his groan when he saw that the Cardinal was there. Louis rose from his seat and stepped in front of them, "No, no need to kneel!" king stopped them. He shot a worried glance at d'Artagnan.

He turned to the Cardinal, "Your Eminence, if you please."

"But, Your Majesty..." The Cardinal wasn't happy to leave.

"There are no buts, Cardinal we have already discussed the matter with you, now I would like to discuss it with my Musketeers. In private, if you please." Those words were said in the gentle manner, but everyone could feel the power behind them.

"Yes, Your Majesty." D'Artagnan could see the Cardinal's sour face when he left the room.

"D'Artagnan, I was informed what happened to you, how are you faring?" Louis asked.

"I'm feeling fine," there was a cough, d'Artagnan wanted to hit Aramis into the ribs, with his elbow.

"Have you seen the physician?" The King tried to hold his grin back.

"Yes, I have, your Majesty, on the insistence of my friends, but I really didn't need to." There was another cough; d'Artagnan recognized it as Porthos'.

"Well, it seems like your friends are very protective of you." This time Louis couldn't stop the grin from coming.

"And sometimes overly so." And there was the third cough, d'Artagnan glared at Athos.

Now the King was almost openly laughing, "Athos, tell me did d'Artagnan need to see the physician?"

"Yes he did, even if he fared much better at the time, your highness, and he was warned beforehand that we will call one." Athos had his emotionless face on as he answered the question.

"I was unconscious at that time," d'Artagnan mumbled, but Louis heard what he said.

"It doesn't matter you were warned," Louis smiled; these four Musketeers always amused him.

Then his face turned serious, "D'Artagnan, walk with me please."

The King guided the young Musketeer to the other side of the room, "Your friends are taking good care of you." It was more of a statement than a question but d'Artagnan decided to answer.

"Yes, the best, Your Majesty." Even it if annoyed him and he whined about it, he was happy he had found friends who care that much.

"That means they want revenge." Louis raised one of his delicate eyebrows.

"Sire..." D'Artagnan started, but Louis raised his hand to make him silent.

"There is no need to deny it, d'Artagnan. I know you four, if I didn't you wouldn't be my Musketeers," d'Artagnan lowered his head, Louis smiled, "and that gives me the answer."

He went and sat back behind his desk, d'Artagnan took his place by the others. The Musketeers watched how Louis wrote a note.

"La Chesnaye," Louis took the note and handed it to his valet, "give this to my treasurer and ask from him four bags of gold."

When his valet left, the King turned back to the Musketeers, "D'Artagnan I heard the reports from Cornett, Faucheux, Mynatt and Treville. I want to hear yours."

D'Artagnan sighted and told the story again, for what seemed like the tenth time that week.

"So you didn't see who attacked you?" Louis was frowning.

"Yes, the alley was dark, the men's faces were in the shadows, and the moon gave the only light there was." The youngest Musketeer started fidgeting, he knew how foolish he had been at that night, his friends had told it to him many times. And now in front of the King he lost all his cockiness and was the young boy who he truly was.

"And they disappeared when they had wounded you and the other three Musketeers arrived?" The King rose from his desk again and stepped in front of his Musketeers.

"Yes, Your Highness." said D'Artagnan, he took deep breath, he didn't want to revisit that night ever again.

"Well, we will find them. I know you all want your revenge. But this is now in my hands; one of my Musketeers was attacked. I'm the judge and no one else. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," all four mumbled.

Louis took a few steps closer and lowered his voice, "But if you should find them first, please remember to bring them in front of me alive and in one piece." The smiling and good natured Louis was back.

"Of course, Your Majesty." They all were grinning; it was just what they wanted to hear from the king.

"But now leave me, I have some important matters to see do. The queen and her lady-in-waiting are by the bond, I think there are some who want to know, how you are fairing, d'Artagnan. La Chesnaye will find you there."

The Musketeers bowed and left the king alone.

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><p>Forty minutes later they left the palace. All of their belts where heavier by the bags of gold that the King had decided to give them.<p>

"I never thought that I would see the day when Louis would show so much backbone to the Cardinal." Porthos said voice full of admiration.

"The naivety is just a shield, so no one would suspect how powerful and dangerous the King could be." D'Artagnan said, he was trying to keep up with his friends' long steps but his leg hurt. He wanted to sit but he knew that it wouldn't happen before they reached their lodging.

"When did you become so wise?" Aramis asked when he looked at his young friend and his struggles, he signalled the others to slow down a little.

"Well I'm living with you three, that means someone of us needs to be wise." D'Artagnan grinned the banter was back.

"Athos," Aramis turned to his left, "did the boy just insult us?"

"If I'm not mistaken than, yes." Athos wasn't as grim as he'd been in the morning.

"What should we do about it?"

"Well I don't know, what too you think, Porthos?"

"I think, we should throw him into the fountain." Before d'Artagnan knew what was happening he was guided to the fountain by Porthos and Aramis.

"I'm injured, you can't do that," when that didn't work, d'Artagnan took on another approach, "It's the King's fountain, he will kill us."

"No," Athos said, the other Musketeers exchanged looks.

"But he'll definitely take away the money." Aramis concluded the thought. Aramis and Porthos let d'Artagnan go.

D'Artagnan looked at the backs of his friends', he had never thought that the last sentence would work, he shook his head and muttered, "You all are going soft in your old age."

"We heard that." Athos said over his shoulder. D'Artagnan shook his head again and followed his friends, one day it will all come back to bite him in the butt.

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><p><strong>AN: _(1) La Chesnaye was King Louis XIII valet in the book._**


	4. Planning

**A/N: Here you go, the fourth chapter. Thank you lilgenious for betaing, all the mistakes in this story are all mine. **

**Read, enjoy and please review.**

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><p>As soon as they reached home, d'Artagnan was made to sit on the chair by the fire and Planchet was ordered to put another chair in front of d'Artagnan so he could put his leg up. When the youngest of them was comfortable and had settled down, Aramis sent Planchet for more wine and went to his room. A few moments later Athos and Porthos left d'Artagnan also alone with his thoughts.<p>

The boys head was full of them; they were like flies that didn't leave him alone. He looked at his wounded leg. What would have happened if he hadn't met Athos, Porthos and Aramis on his first day in Paris? Would he be still running around Paris, trying to prove to M. de Treville that he had the soul and heart of a musketeer? Or would he have already been killed by the Cardinals guards? What if he had been sent back to his home back in Gascony, back to his father's farm, to be the disappointment of his family?

All those options could have been his faith if some strange rode in destiny had gotten him three duels in one day and he wouldn't have found in those duels three friends who he considered his family.

Porthos the loud mouthed, extravagant, hungry for fight where ever he could find them. But he was a good hearted man; there were many who didn't believe it. But d'Artagnan had proof: last winter when he discovered that his winter gloves were worn out, Porthos had loaned him a pair of his, they were big but warm. Later d'Artagnan had learned from Athos and Aramis that those gloves were one of Porthos' favourite pair. D'Artagnan had worn them carefully and had given them back to their owner as good condition as he had gotten them.

Aramis the sly one was always full of mischief, his mind sharp as a sword. Only man who d'Artagnan knew that read prayers for the men he had just killed. A man with a secret, some nights Aramis sneaked out and came back an hour before dawn. One night d'Artagnan had followed him and found out what his friend was up to. He had promised himself, that he will keep it until the day he died. The boy was quite sure that Athos and Porthos also knew what their friend was up to, but it was the secret they will keep. D'Artagnan had to give credit; Aramis had good taste in women.

And Athos, bearing of a nobleman, he could even be king, a man who knew everything about everything, on the good days he could hold up a conversation about anything, on bad days you couldn't get a word out of him, at those days he could drink and drink and always seem sober. Outside he was cold and unfriendly and on the inside he was cold and unfriendly, those were Aramis' and Porthos' words and a few of which that had become a joke amongst the musketeers. A man whose biting words could hurt, if you didn't know the man or couldn't hear the care behind them. D'Artagnan could never imagine his life without ever meeting Athos.

And what was he. His line of thought was stopped when Athos' room door opened and closed, then Porthos' and Aramis'. It was strange how his friends seemed to have a six sense about his moods. They always knew to appear, when the boy's thoughts were turning to grim.

The musketeers took their usual places around the table. Porthos dealt out the card for Karnoeffel they needed to amuse themselves, because Planchet wasn't back yet with the wine.

"So we have the King's permission, to go after those men." Athos looked his hand, he was paired with d'Artagnan.

Aramis raised his eyes from the cards, "Remember the permission was oral. We have to plan everything carefully." The others nodded.

"So how will we find them? The men whom we don't know and what they look like, what their names are or any other significant markings?" Athos asked.

"I can identify their voices." D'Artagnan wasn't in the mood for cards, he threw his hand on the table; the day had taken a toll on him. Only thing he wanted to do was drink some wine and be rid of everything that happened a week ago.

"Are you sure, that your attackers were the Cardinals guards?" Athos' question had come out more like accusation.

"Of course I'm sure, you don't believe me!" D'Artagnan didn't see the concerned glances that were thrown at him.

"Athos didn't mean to sound like that, d'Artagnan," Aramis took the place of a peace maker, "he is worried that maybe the men weren't real Cardinals guards." As one they all put their cards on the table. They couldn't play if d'Artagnan didn't.

D'Artagnan sighed, rubbed his eyes and shot an apologizing look at Athos, "I know, forgive me, I don't know what has gotten into me. But yes, I'm sure they were the guardsmen. They wore the uniform and swords of the guard. You know very well how difficult it is to come by those swords. They are made by the King's personal black smith, only he can make the design that the Cardinal's guard swords bear. We would already know if he had made five extra swords. And if they would have gone missing from the guardsmen armoury, we would know it. Every secret in Paris is a public secret."

"The boy is right," Porthos grumbled, "If the swords were missing every musketeer would have been attacked in every garden, street corner or alley. Thankfully it didn't happen." At the last words his friend shot an unbelievable look at him, "What? I would never say no to a good fight, but calling us thieves, that wouldn't be my taste." There were guffaws around the room; Porthos' good natured logic could always lift the mood.

The front door opened and closed and Planchet stepped in, "Masters I have the wine."

"Good God, man, pour it out already!" wine was the other thing Porthos couldn't say no to.

"So back to the question, how will we find these men?" Aramis asked when he took a cup of wine from Planchet.

"We have talked to our sources, they don't know anything." Porthos frowned.

"What the hell is this?" A cry came from d'Artagnan who looked sceptically at his wine cup.

"It's cod-liver oil(1)." Athos tried to hold a smile of his face, "It's good for you, it helps heal your leg quicker and it helps your memory."

"So you will remember not to call us unintelligent again." Aramis smiled slyly.

"And never to call us old." Porthos was laughing hard.

"It's your drink for the night." Now a smile had formed on Athos' lips.

"What?" d'Artagnan's eyes had grown wide, "You can't be serious, it's not fair!"

"Who said that it should be fair?" There was mischievous gleam in Athos' eyes.

D'Artagnan was flabbergasted, the words refused to exit his mouth. The absurdity of the situation finally got to him. He didn't remember the last time when he had laughed this hard.

When he could breathe again, he drank the vile content of the cup and brought his hand up, "Can I now have some wine, please?"

Chuckling Aramis nodded to Planchet who brought d'Artagnan a new cup with wine.

"But we have still not found the solution to our little problem." It was sometimes strange how serious Porthos could get.

"Well, I have," Athos was sombre again, even if the mischief was still in his eyes, "We ask for help from someone. I always thought I'd rather go through hell before I go and ask help from him. But the hell I have been through and we need his help."

"Who are you talking about?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Jussac," Athos had seen ahead the uproar his proclamation would bring.

"Jussac? Are you serious? You know that he hates us." Porthos was the loudest.

"He's one of the guardsmen." Aramis raised questioning eyebrow.

"And that is the reason," d'Artagnan understood where Athos was heading.

"Precisely, Jussac is the Captain of the Cardinals guards.(2) He is the one man who should know what is going on in his corps." Athos raised his eyebrow, asking silently for one of his friends to talk him out of his plan.

"Why should he help us?" Porthos didn't understand.

"He's not helping us, he's helping d'Artagnan." Athos said and poured himself another cup of wine.

"And why should he help d'Artagnan?" Aramis almost saw where Athos was heading.

"Because he respects d'Artagnan. The boy let him live, when they fought, he just injured him. And Jussac is a man of honour; he expects that same honour from his men. He, we and everybody else know that there was no honour in the attack on d'Artagnan." Athos drank his cup empty with one gulp.

"How can we convince him? That he needs to help us?" d'Artagnan questioned.

"We can't convince him he has to decide himself." Aramis smiled.

"We can't go to his home, he will think of it as an attack. And if we are seen, Jussac's career and reputation would be over. The Cardinal has eyes and ears everywhere." Athos looked at his friends.

"So we must send a message to him to meet us somewhere," d'Artagnan concluded, "but whom should we send?"

"Planchet?" Porthos had an evil smile.

"No, masters, not me," Planchet stammer, "He knows me; I was the one who emptied the chamber pot on to his head."

"Planchet is right, for the first time in his life. What do you think would the butcher boy wish to earn some sols? The Butcher boy may take any message to Jussac, the spies wouldn't suspect anything." A plan was forming in Athos mind, "We need your penmanship, Aramis."

"Of course," Aramis smile had grown, "Planchet bring me paper, quill and ink."

As the valet did as he was told, Aramis looked at Athos, "What should the message contain?"

"That we need his help, that we need to meet, somewhere safe?" Athos rubbed his beard.

"How about outside the city?" Porthos offered.

"No he would suspect it as an ambush, not a good place." Athos dissuaded that thought quickly.

"A church? Not even Cardinal's guards are that foolish to attack or ambush someone on holy ground." Aramis raised his eyes from the paper.

"It's a good idea, you choose the church you know them best." Athos grinned and raised his cup.

Ten minutes later Aramis had finished, "I'm done, tell me what you think:

_Monsieur Jussac,_

_A friend of ours needs your help. You are__a man of honour; the incident that took place a week ago had no honour. If you wish to help us or at least wish to hear what we have to say, meet us in Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre tomorrow at two o'clock._

_A, A, P"_

"My dear Aramis, you have the pen of a secretary of state." Athos said.

"Why isn't my initial under the letter?" d'Artangnan raised an eyebrow.

"Because this message has to come from us three. Planchets take this message to the butcher boy and tell him what to do. And give him the money after he has done the job." Athos handed the letter and money to Planchet.

"What if he plans to ambush us?" Porthos had found a flaw.

"We go to the meeting place half an hour earlier. But now my friends let us drink and wait for tomorrow." Athos raised his cup, he hoped that he was right and Jussac was a man of honour.

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><p><strong>AN: (1) Cod-liver oil As been known in Scandinavia, England and Ireland for many centuries, I thought that Athos and Aramis were very educated and that they should know that nasty, bad tasting, good for health liquidity.**

**(2) This is by the the 2011 movie, I figured that the best replacement for Rochford, who was the captain, after d'Artagnan kills him, would be Jussac.**


	5. Meeting

**AN: The six chapter of my story. I'm sorry it took me so long to update it, but life or something like it intervened and now is the Christmas time. But I try to finish the next chapter quicker, before the New Year. But as Yoda said about trying – Do or don't, there is no try. So I'm hopeful that I finish the next chapter before New Year.**

**And my thanks to lilgenious for betaing.**

**But now, read, enjoy and review.**

**And happy holidays to you all.**

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><p>The streets around Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre were quiet, at that time of day there were strangely no people walking around. It was like the Parisians knew to stay away from there.<p>

D'Aragtnan was pacing back and forth in front of the church; he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Cardinals guard, but he couldn't let go of his suspicions. He could see Notre Dame looming over the river, the church that was growing to be one of the symbols of Paris next to Louvre.

D'Artagnan sighed; he had his doubts about Athos' plan. He didn't trust Jussac, never had and never will. The man may respect him, but he hated Athos, Porthos and Aramis.

He didn't want to say so to Athos, the man had a perfect plan. But what if it all turned to hell, what if… d'Artagnan stopped himself, there were too many what ifs, the world would end before he could list them all.

He shook his head and entered the silent church. He took of his hat and dipped his finger into the bowel, he crossed himself. His mother had raised him to be a good Catholic. Her every teaching had etched indelibly in to his mind. But this time he wasn't in the church to pray or listen to reverent preach; there were other matters. The first being that he had his friends to find.

Porthos sat on one of the pews in the back of the church. Athos stood beside him on the aisle. But there was no Aramis. D'artagnan frowned; then in the silence of the church he heard voices form the room beside chancel.

A few moments later Aramis joined them, "I made a little donation to the church and the reverend agreed to let us meet here, if we don't fight or kill Jussac." At the last words he shot a look at Porthos, who had a innocent "Who, me?" look on.

Aramis only snorted and turned around. D'Artagnan had to gnaw his lip so he wouldn't start laughing out loud when he saw that Porthos made a face at Aramis back. The boy glanced at Athos who was trying to hide his own smirk, their eyes met and Athos rolled his at the immaturity of Porthos. With that d'Artagnan had to bite even harder on his lips. He stepped away or else he would laugh right out loud to Porthos' face and that wouldn't be good.

He walked further into the church, his eyes taking everything in. He knew from Aramis that this was the oldest church in Paris. It was magnificent, the church in Gascony where he tended from the time he was christened until he came to Paris, was nothing in compare. He remembered how he had spent every Sunday morning in that church. As a child he had always wished to be somewhere else: play by the creek, ride with Buttercup or practise sword fighting with his father. Every time he started fidgeting, his mother would place her hand on his arm and remind him where he was. In later years he had already learned, he listened, sat still, but he never found his mothers beliefs. His mother would heat up his ears if she found out that in the two years he had been in Paris, he had gone to the mass only a few times. D'Artagnan couldn't even remember the last time when he went to confession.

The front door of the Churches opened, d'Artagnan turned, the man who they all had been waiting for stood there. Jussac took his hat off and crossed himself. D'Artagnan went to stand beside Athos.

"Musketeers," Jussac sneered, "Can I ask the reason, why I was asked here?"

"As said in the message, we need your help," Athos stepped forward, "As you well know, d'Artagnan was attacked a week ago. We need your help to find the men who did this. Everyone is Paris knows that they were guards men, even the King."

"Have you lost all your senses, Athos?" Jussac spat, "The alcohol has finally damaged your brain. I'll never betray my men." He started to walk to the door.

"Well, Jussac," Athos shook his head, "you have proved me wrong. I thought you were a man of honour."

Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged looks, Athos just had challenged Jussac. He had out right accused the man of being without honour. There have been minor things which men have been called out to for a duel.

"Are you challenging me? Do you want to solve this matter _honourably?_"Jussac came back, now he was nose to nose with Athos.

"You are in the house of God, Jussac. You should know what it means, you, the guardsmen proclaimed to be the men of god, because you guard the highest head of this kingdoms church. You proclaim to be men of honour, who protect France, fight for her, keeping her king alive and safe when we musketeers can't. D'Artagnan was attacked because he is friend of ours, he has done nothing wrong. He wasn't even an elite musketeer at the time." Athos had stayed calm when he said those words, but the fire inside his eyes was unmistakable.

Jussac sighed and lowered his head, "You, Athos and your fancy words."

The captain had surrendered, he sat in one of the pews, "I have heard rumours."

"He said rumours, let's go, he is no use to us." Porthos rose.

"Sit down Porthos," Aramis hissed, Porthos wanted to protest, but Athos' and d'Artagnan's annoyed glanced stopped him. He huffed and sat down.

"Go on, Jussac," Athos urged the guard on.

"No, orders went through me, but I heard rumours. Rumours I didn't dare to investigate. If I did, I would lose my career and the respect. I wouldn't find a job in any armed force in France, guards would hate me, musketeers already despise me and the Cardinal's reach is long, even the smallest towns won't take me in or their town's guard." Jussac looked like a man who had too many troubles on his shoulders.

Athos knew what Jussac was actually asking, "I give you my word of honour that no one will hear what you say to us here."

Jussac looked at Athos. D'artagnan felt a shiver run down his spine, Jussac was questioning Athos' honour, how could he? Athos was the most honourable man who d'Artaganan had ever met. But at the same time the boy knew that Jussac had the right, Athos had questioned his honour. It was his right to question Athos'.

Jussac looked for a long time, and then finally he found the thing he was looking for in Athos eyes.

"Alright, I trust your word. But know this Athos, when you or one of your friends betrays this trust, there will be a duel and consequences."

"Understood. Will you please, tell us what you have heard?" D'Artagnan saw how Athos struggled to say those words; he usually didn't take well to being threatened.

"A week or so ago, the Cardinal called one of my men to him. The man has problems with discipline. He doesn't follow orders well or the rules, he was punished. I thought that the Cardinal called him to interrogate, to see if he had learned his lesson. His Eminence had done that before. So I thought that at least at the end of the day I will find a report from his secretary on my desk, about what he thought of the man. I never found it, I assumed that it will be there in a few days," Jussac stopped and sighed, d'Artagnan saw the turmoil of feelings on his face. The fight between his loyalty to his employer and his men and his honour which was the strongest part of any warrior. The honour won, "but I never got it. A few days later the attack occurred. After that I heard that the man had called four of his most loyal friends to him, after meeting with the Cardinal. Some of my other men had seen them planning, there was even a rumour that one of them had found a way to see the musketeers time table for the patrolling routs. But as I told you, I couldn't investigate it myself."

"What are their names?" D'Artagnan felt cold shiver run down his spine. It wasn't Athos or Porthos who said those words so viciously, but Aramis, the most gentle of them. D'Artaganan knew that Aramis had it in him, but had never seen it.

"Brun, Lambert, Pelletier, Renard, d'Gange." Jussac listed them and looked at Athos, "What are you going to do to them, when you find them?"

Athos shrugged his shoulders, "We bring them in front of the King, we have orders not to kill them and keep them in one piece."

Jussac rose arduously "Alright, but remember Athos what you promised. Good day gentlemen." He put his hat back on, nodded and left with a fast pace.

"Are we going to go and find them?" d'Artaganan asked.

"No," Athos looked at the boy, "_we_ are going to go and find their favourite hunts, but you are going home make yourself comfortable and let Planchet take care of you. Your leg is still healing."

"But Athos," d'Artagnan whined.

Athos only raised his eyebrow and hit d'Artagnans leg with his sword. It was a gentle touch but it hurt like hell.

"Alright, I'm going home." He grumbled.

"Good. Porthos, Aramis, we have a job to do." Athos squeezed d'Artagnan's shoulder and stepped out of the church. Porthos and Aramis sent reassuring smiles in d'Artagnan's direction and joined Athos. D'Artagana sighed and headed for home he had only to wait and see.

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><p>It was several hours later, d'Artagana had settled himself before the fire. He hadn't heard from his friends after they left the church. Suspicion had found its way back to his heart, maybe it had been a trap, and maybe Jussac lied?<p>

The front door opened and Athos, Porthos and Aramis stepped in. All had grim looks on their faces. That wasn't good.

"How did it go, did you find them?"

None of his friends said anything, Planchet poured them some wine. D'Artagnan was afraid.

"No, but we found their favourite tavern." Porthos answered and now the grim looks were gone, smiled had replaced them. His friends had just played with him.

"So why are we still here? Why haven't we gone after them?" d'Artagana didn't understand.

"Because we need a plan and a very good one." Athos smirked.

"We will teach them that, there is no messing with the musketeers, especially us. They should already know that if they go against one of us, they are going against all of us." Aramis smile was evil. D'Artagnan didn't want to know what would happen to the guards that would face Aramis. Well actually he didn't want to be any of those guards, especially now that they had d'Artagnan's three friends after them.


	6. Retribution

**A/N: So here is the last chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, I know I promised to have it up on New Year, but so it went that it was finished on Easter.**

**Life got in the way, I found myself finally a job and because of that the end of the story dragged.**

**I thank lilgenious and my friend for reading it thru. Every mistake that you find are all mine.**

**But now read and enjoy.**

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><p>The winter was coming closer; d'Artagnan could smell it in the air. The winter was his favourite season; he yearned for the snow and the warmth of the fire place. And there was Christmas, oh how he loved Christmas. Even thinking about it filled him with warmth. He remembered his childhood, how he had woken up every single Christmas morning to the smell of fresh cinnamon buns. It did not matter if they had had a poor year or not, his mother would treat them as if they were nobles.<p>

Last Christmas he had spent in Gascony with his parents but this year he was to be in Paris with his friends, he knew he would miss his parents but it was a time to grow up. To become the man he should be. He had already heard Planchet talk about Christmas, even though it was still the end of November. He had to laugh at himself, he was standing in front of one of the most terrible taverns in town and he was thinking about Christmas.

"Well, gentlemen, it is time to go in." Athos said calmly, but d'Artagnan could see the anger behind his eyes.

"Fifteen minutes?" Aramis asked, his voice was cold, but his face was calm.

"Yes, fifteen minutes, if everything goes as planned." Athos nodded.

"Well then, let's have some fun." Porthos had a feral smirk glued on his face. Athos nodded, but before he opened the door he turned to his friends, "And remember not to use your swords, take them out if there is no other way." Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan nodded in agreement and they entered the tavern.

D'Artagnan had been to this tavern many times when he had been on patrol duty, breaking up fights, arresting people. Almost every thug in Paris had once found their way to this particular tavern. However, it was too loud and noisy for his taste and d'Artagnan had never understood why some of the guardsmen enjoyed this place. He had never been there for pleasure; and this time was no different. But then again, the business for what they were there could be counted as pleasure.

At the other end of the room, they saw the five Cardinal's guards that they had been looking for, sitting at the table under one window. All four exchanged looks. Athos, Aramis and Porthos went and sat down at a table near the guardsmen, close enough to get noticed, but far enough not to raise any suspicion. D'Artagnan stepped to the bar and ordered a flagon of wine. When he turned around, he saw that the guards had taken notice of them. He took the flagon and sat beside Athos.

"It's about to start," Athos muttered.

He was right, Brun had stood up and stepped towards them, "Well, look who we have here - _the musketeers_. And they have bought their _little_ musketeer, with them." He sneered. DArtagnan froze, it was the same voice. Others had seen his reaction and got their confirmation through this moment of weakness.

"Brun, would you leave us alone? We don't want anything to do with you." Athos grumbled.

"How far have you fallen, Athos? Associating yourself with an insignificant boy, a dumb giant and a priest who thinks he is a warrior?" D'Artagnan saw how Athos clenched his fists. Brun was the son of a count, Athos had known him once, when he himself had been known as Count de la Fere. But it wasn't Athos who answered.

"You have already been told to leave us alone," Aramis smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant one, "So you better leave, _please_."

"You aren't anyone, you can't tell me nothing, priest," Brun spat. D'Artagnan saw Aramis raising a questioning eyebrow at Athos, who nodded. D'Artagnan remembered the plan, and it worked. How? He had no idea. Aramis was the one who according to plan was to be the one to start the fight from their side. To show how much the guards were annoying them, Aramis was the calmest of them all.

"I may be thinking of becoming a priest," he raised an eyebrow, "But I'm a musketeer now and musketeers always protect their friends. But you may not know anything about that."

"Watch what you say, _priest,_" Every fibre of Brun was full of hate.

"Or what? Are you going to stab me behind my back?" Aramis hissed. And then everything happened so fast that d'Artagnan couldn't even blink his eyes. If anyone would have asked him later what occurred, in what order even if his life depended on it, he couldn't have answered.

D'Artagnan saw how Brun's fist flew towards Aramis' face, who ducked. The next moment Aramis was up, grabbed the collar of Brun and shoved him to Athos, whose smile was a tight lipped one.

"Athos, is this one of your plans again?" Brun sneered.

"Plans? No, we just came here for a drink; you just made it so much more amusing for us." Athos just shook his head and blocked a hit that was coming his way. "But now I think there is someone else, who would like to talk with you." So he twisted the other man's fist and pushed him towards d'Artagnan.

At that point all the other guardsmen had stood up and attacked Porthos and Aramis, two took on Porthos, one went after Aramis, while the last one jumped towards Athos.

"Well, well, well, little musketeer, it seems, that it is now only us," D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow at that. He was nervous and angry, but he held it under control.

"Yes and this time, you aren't backstabbing me," The boy saw how Brun got infuriated; his face grew redder with a moment. Thankfully he was ready when the hit came he blocked it and returned the attack. If his father had known that at the same time he was teaching to his son the art of gentlemen's fighting – swords – the boy was learning fist fighting from the village boys – the un-gentleman fighting. But d'Artagnan had to smile when his fist slammed into Brun's gut. He knew he had been wrong in his assumption, his father had known everything his son was doing.

"Well, I would have never thought that little musketeers know how to fight like this," Brun sneered; his fist got through d'Artagnan's defences and found the boy's jaw.

"I grew up in the country," D'Artagnan spat the blood out, his teeth had cut into his cheek. He took all the might he had and punched Brun in the face so hard, that the other man fell onto the floor. At that moment the door to the tavern opened and the Musketeers patrol group stepped in. Athos had been right, it took only fifteen minutes.

"All right, everybody freeze," Their leader lieutenant Leroy shouted, but there was no need. D'Artagnan looked around and all his friends had finished their opponents, all were conscious, but had gotten a mighty beating.

"You all are under arrest." Leroy shouted and his men went to grab the guards. He turned to musketeers, "I should have guessed it was you. Athos, you know, I'm not very happy to arrest you."

"Then don't!" Porthos bellowed.

"I can't, it's the protocol," said the lieutenant, "you know that Porthos."

"And you know that according to protocol I can request one thing from you?" Athos smiled.

"Yes and what that would be?" Leroy looked at the Cardinal guards, he raised an eyebrow; he couldn't understand why the other musketeers had to mess with those pieces of scum.

"Take us in front of the King," Athos answered.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because these are the men," Athos didn't need to say more, Leroy's face shone with understanding. Now d'Artagnan understood why Athos had picked that night for their plan, Leroy was intelligent; there was no need to explain anything further.

"Well, that explains it all," fire had appeared in the man's eyes, "well that settles it; we will take them all in front of the King. I think he won't be angry with us when he hears the reason."

"Wait a minute!" Brun stared, but Leroy stopped him, "The decision has already been made. You are being taken to the King."

"May I make a suggestion?" Athos asked.

"You may."

"Send one of your men to get Monsieur de Tréville, they will reach the palace at the same time we will."

"Good idea. Cornett! Go to Monsieur de Tréville's house and explain him the situation and ask him to come to the palace." When the musketeer, to whom the order was meant was out of the door, Leroy turned to others, "Well gentlemen, we are going to see the King."

It took them thirty minutes to get to the palace; the guardsmen tried to escape many times but were always stopped.

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><p>King Louis XIII stumped down from the staircase; he was not a happy man, "Can anyone explain to me, what is so important that I had to interrupt my dinner with my beautiful wife." He looked round in the room and his eyes fell on his captain of the musketeers, "de Tréville, explain."<p>

"I cannot sire, I'm as blind in this case as you are." The older man answered. Louis looked around the room again and found Athos, "Athos, can you explain to me what is going on?"

"Well, Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan and I were out on the city and decided to have a drink, so we stepped into the closest tavern. There were five of his Eminence's guards, we didn't mind them. We only wanted a drink, but their leader Brun came to pester us. He insulted us and when Aramis asked him nicely to leave us alone, he insulted him. And then the fight started and ended when Leroy's patrol stepped in." Athos reported this with a calm and stoic face.

"Why do I have a feeling that there is more to this story?" Louis looked at Athos with an amused dingle in his eyes.

"Yes, we suspect that they were the ones who attacked d'Artaganan," Aramis answered.

"Really? Is this so?" the King turned to d'Artagnan.

"Yes, your majesty," d'Artagnan looked at Louis, "I recognized one of their voices, it was the one who is called Brun, he said _little_ musketeer with the same voice and tone as the one who attacked me from behind."

"Oh, and do you have any more...well more substantial proof?" now there was glee on the King's face.

"Yes, if you check, one of them has a mere week old sword wound in his right shoulder and another has a week old flesh wound on his left side," D'Artagnan answered.

"Check them," Louis ordered and watched how his orders were carried out, and as d'Artagnan had said: Pelletier had the wound on the left side and d'Gange had a wound in his right shoulder.

"Well that settles that matter, take them to my study and place a guard in front of it, no one is going to go in or out of the room. I'm going to go and finish my dinner with my queen. When I'm finished, go and ask Cardinal do come to the study, not a minute sooner."

The five guards were lead out of the room, Louis turned to the musketeers, "Well they are all in one piece and alive."

"Yes, your majesty."

"What else I can say to you is that you followed the orders, I should punish you for disturbing the peace, but as you gave me the attackers, it's forgotten. Now get going and don't forget tomorrow you are my personal guard," With that Louis walked away, the four looked after him, they were never the King's personal guard, but then they never expected to get away without any punishment.

They headed to the side door, when d'Artagnan saw a mischievous smile on Aramis face. "Look, where you have fallen, Athos."

"Oh yes," Porthos had gotten on, "you associating yourself with a dumb giant,"

"An insignificant boy," d'Artagnan smiled.

"And a priest who thinks himself a warrior," Aramis concluded

"And what does that make me?" Athos' eyebrow rose.

"A grumpy drunk." When the words had fallen of his lips d'Artaganan understood what he had said. Athos was going to kill him, skin him and bury him where no one could find him.

But Athos threw his head back and laughed like he hadn't laugh in days. Actually d'Artagnan had never seen the older man laugh like that. Porthos and Aramis could not keep their laughter back as well and d'Artagnan could find a power inside him to stop the laughter coming. He felt such a relief, the night had gone exactly the way they had wanted and he felt more part of their group than ever before.

"Let's head home, there should be some wine left," Athos said when he finally gathered himself together.

"Yes, and pester Planchet!" Porthos boomed there was a grin on his face.

They had reached the street when Athos suddenly stopped, "You know, at some point Planchet will have his revenge."

"Ah, and what could he do?" Porthos asked.

"Poison our wine?" was the answer.

"He won't," Porthos declared then thought a little, "or would he? Is he even that smart?"

All four exchanged wary glances, then shook their heads in unison, "No!"

But for the next five days Porthos was nicer to Planchet, every time he wanted to yell at the other man an image of Planchet poisoning his wine or put every God awful thing that Porthos didn't like into is dinner, had stopped him.

Athos had put an end to it when Planchet had gone to him asking if he should call for a physician, because master Porthos was acting strangely. Athos had promised him that he will talk to Porthos. D'Artagnan, who was standing nearby, had held his laughter back; nothing will change in their household.

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><p><strong>AN: This is the end. Maybe soon I write some more musketeer stories.**


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